


Blasphemy.

by BubblegumCannibal



Series: Commissions and Gifts [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, Sexual Content, mature content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 02:13:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4942759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BubblegumCannibal/pseuds/BubblegumCannibal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>gift trade for friend of a collection of lavellan/rutherford</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blasphemy.

**Author's Note:**

> I have sinned with these hands.  
> ANDRASTE IS WATCHING, YOU SINNERS.
> 
>  
> 
> i haven't written any simple things like this in such a long time--
> 
>  
> 
> word count: 528  
> otp (eventual collection title): the lion's huntress.

Blasphemy. _Blasphemy._ His words speaks in hushed tones to none. Rough fingers gliding down gentle flesh brought prayer to his heart— _excitement_ to his mind. Maker bless him as he marvels at perfection, for she is glory— _She_ is **heaven.**

A kiss, it started with a kiss. Exhausted, but desired it was supposed to be just a kiss shared as she took casual rest on retired throne. Under destroyed roof, within a room of dusting thrones, Andraste sees all beneath golden flames. She hears the ache in the Inquisitor’s breathy groan as toes curl and lithe fingers grip the soft fluff of blond ‘twixt her thighs.

Cool was it, the marble ‘neath her backside. As her hips bucked, rising into the Commander’s calloused grip, the tickle of his stubble brought a hiss to the blushing Elf and free hand to slap the hard stone of the seats edge. He can hear a subtle whimper emit from her as he pulls back with a gentle chuckle, a few damp kisses to her inner thigh with a quick glance upwards to catch fawning responses.

Though leg rested upon his shoulder and the other gentle within his grip, she sat a bit uncomfortably. Bum on the edge of the marble at this point, back nowhere near thing to rest on, arm slung over her face, leaving her mouth agape and free—her panting is harsh, but her desire is noticeable.

A nip here and a hickey there, lips find themselves back to familiar territory with another soft kiss atop mound, hands now searching up and down her thighs, greeting curves with excitement. Lopsided is his smile as he watches her squirm beneath amiable touch. The Lion’s hands seem to be in places where her body yearns and reacts, but he is not where her longing wants him to be.

“Ma’lath… s-sathan… _Sathan…_ ”

Her words seemed to chirp foreign to him all with a harsh begging, hips rocking as she spoke. Oh how anticipation works, bringing another hiss as flat tongue graced soaked flesh. Her body dips once she feels the heat expend from his mouth. Taking the scent of her gentle arousal mixed with the lilac of her body oil—Maker’s breath, he can barely take it.

 Gasp escaped from him as he pulled her into a more comfortable grip, her back now flat to marble and legs rested properly at his shoulders. With fingers woven back in blond fluff and her dull nails scratching against his scalp—oddly it feels amazing to him.

There is no fail to notice the blood reaching the tips of her ears, face flushed deep with embarrassment once her toes curl and another moan echoes within the throne room. Now with fingers curling and pumping within her, he greets her lips with fervor, biting her bottom lip before pulling her into a kiss—ever so deep now. Yet, he can feel Yvette tense up, legs clasping tightly around his hand, pallid fingers gripping at the white of his exposed undershirt.

O’ she is the fire at the heart of the world— ** _his_** world—and her comfort – her **_excitement_** – is only his to give.

_**Sweet Maker…** _


End file.
